Light of the World
by Spirit Speaker
Summary: Sometimes, when the days are at their darkest shadows forget who is the true Light of the World. Most of the people in Gotham don't know, and never will. And yet, as a new threat steps up to the plate, Batman seems to be figuring it out. Bruce/OC *Hiatus, as a rewrite is in progress. Should be up sometime in 2013.
1. Chapter 1 Coffee Can Fly

Lucius Fox stood by the window in his private office. He watched the people down below; thankful he couldn't exactly hear them. Too often sirens could be seen racing down the road to whatever human-caused tragedy the day brought. It was only a small comfort that he supplied Batman with the tools and gadgets he needed. Small because he didn't exactly approve of the vigilante himself, but merely respected Batman's cause, to a point. He sighed and thought back on a recent conversation between himself and Mr. Wayne in this very spot.

"_Long night?" _

_Lucius turned to see Bruce Wayne standing behind him. "Normally, I'd be the one asking you that."_

_Bruce chuckled, "Yes well, the nights have not been long for many days. Crime has gone into hiding."_

"_Hiding? Is that why I haven't had to commission anything new?"_

"_Would there be any other reason?" _

_This time, it was Lucius who chuckled. _

How he wished crime had stayed hid. Lucius knew it wouldn't have lasted for long, but this new batch of murders left a sour taste in his mouth, too familiar for his liking.

His phone rang and he answered it.

"Mr. Fox, Ms. White is waiting for you downstairs. She insisted on waiting in the lobby."

He sighed and responded, "That's quite alright Jean, I'll go ahead and head down there. Thank you for letting me know." Hanging up the phone, he stood and went to meet his friend downstairs.

Meanwhile, Bruce Wayne was just arriving at Wayne Enterprises after yet another night on the town with, what was her name? Brittney? Bailey? Something common like that, when a curious sight caught his eyes. A woman was pacing leisurely in the front hall. He sipped his coffee as he paused to watch her.

Her hair was pulled into a tight, yet messy bun, as if done in haste and out of annoyance. The color of her hair was a shiny pale color of some sort, but it looked white from where he stood.

Her boots thumped lightly with each step and her jeans also swished. The turtleneck confused him though. Surely it was too hot for such clothing? As if hearing his thoughts, she paused and pulled at her sweater around her neck. Wayne sipped his coffee again and decided to approach her.

There was one problem though, as she suddenly changed the direction of her pacing unpredictably to one directly in the path of his.

She squeaked as she collided with him, and his coffee exploded. Truly it must have been a magnificent sight as the cup itself seemed to pop before the lid went flying along with the contents it was covering. As it turned out, the woman was also holding papers and they too took flight. Of course what goes up must come down.

Nia stared at the mess in shock. "I'm so sorry!" She sputtered out to the man whose suit she just ruined. "I'm so, so sorry!" Bending down, she began to attempt to clean the mess and get her papers back in order.

The man didn't get angry though. "It's okay," and motioned to the receptionist to call the janitor, and then he also bent down in front of her and began to collect the papers he hadn't seen her holding.

"I'm so sorry!" Nia muttered again.

"It's not a problem. Just hm-" How was he supposed to tell her what her hair looked like and that it was currently a shade of brown? As it was he could barely keep from laughing. He motioned vaguely to the stands of hair that were loose around her face.

She frowned at him, then looked at her bangs and the tiny brown droplets currently clinging to them. She sighed. "Well at least brown is a natural color. Better than orange." At his look, she explained, "I had similar problems with the orange juice this morning."

His lips twitched, and she cracked an embarrassed grin.

They'd finished collecting her papers and he passed them to her. Today was not her day and Lord help her if it got any worse. It was just her luck to bump into someone, even more so if this man turned out to be Bruce Wayne, her friend's boss then-

"As you probably know, I'm Bruce Wayne." He announced, and held out his hand.

Aww, fiddle sticks. Where's a rock to hide under when you needed it?

"Nia White," she replied and shook his hand. "Again, I'm really sorry about bumping into you."

"Nia!" a voice called from behind her, and both turned to see Lucius Fox approaching them.

He paused when he got a good look at the mess, and chuckled at the scene before him. Not only was there coffee spread in every direction, but Nia's hair was… not its normal shade, and Mr. Wayne's suit would never be the same. He placed a hand over his mouth and crossed an arm across his chest in an attempt to muffle his laughter.

Glaring at him, she snapped, "Don't you dare! I know you're laughing at me," but she couldn't maintain her anger and soon Lucius wasn't the only one laughing.

"Leave it to you to make a mess!" Lucius said as he reached out and gave Nia a hug.

She looked around and sighed. Neither the janitor nor the receptionist would look her in the eye and several other people were hiding their giggles behind hands and papers. Speaking of papers, she looked down at hers and was surprised to see the mess they were in. For once, the disorganization of her papers wasn't the result of her laziness.

"I hope they aren't too damaged." Nia jumped. Wayne had snuck up on her and was standing directly behind her. "Were they important?"

Clutching her papers to her chest, she shook her head as she turned around, "Not that important. Even if they were, I've got copies." She took a good look at his – ahem – "coffee-logged" suit. "Oh my," she put her hand to her mouth, much like Lucius just had.

Bruce looked down. He looked back up. "Good thing I've got another one."

* * *

"Thank you Lucius, really" Nia began after they'd seated themselves.

Lucius shook his head. "It's not a problem. Why wouldn't I make time for an _old_ friend?" he asked, peeking over the top of his menu at his clearly young companion.

Smiling ruefully, she avoided his eyes by looking at her own menu. "I apologize for falling off the map the way that I did. I just had to-"

"Take care of things. Yes I know," Lucius interrupted her. "So was there a reason you so rudely declined my boss's offer of lunch, or was his designer suit merely too much to handle?"

Nia scoffed, "I wasn't rude!"

He leveled her with another look, "You acted as if he had a contagious disease."

"He snuck up on me! Twice!"

"I fail to see how he did that, unless spilling coffee is highly sneaky."

"Oh forget it!" she snapped, smacking her menu down.

Setting his menu down a bit gentler than she had, he decided it was time to cut to the chase. "So what's the real reason we're doing this? As much as I'd like to think this is a chat between old friends, I know from experience this isn't the case."

Suddenly, she couldn't look at him. How was she to tell him his world was about to flip again? She picked up her stack of papers that she had set on the seat next to her. "During my time under, I spent a large amount of my time on research." She spread the newspaper clippings in front of him first. All were of unexplained deaths, ranging from mass killings to single homicides. Explaining further she gestured at the articles, "They're all of bodies that have been arranged ritually, brutally, and in some cases they've been branded."

Lucius frowned, "So he'd been killing for a while? This date is ten years old." The paper in his hand was of an entire family's death.

Nia nodded, "And notice the killings weren't in singles until seven years ago." She pulled out another sheet of paper, "This city in Maine was hit pretty hard, but then the killings suddenly stopped."

"Five years ago?" He asked.

"Yep."

Lucius sat back and watched her. All this information was interesting, but it was old news, things that didn't matter anymore. Why was she bringing this up now?

"How long have you been in town?" He suddenly asked.

She sighed; he wasn't going to like the answer.

"About three months."

"Three months." Leaning forward, he was about to speak when the waitress interrupted him.

"What can I get y'all?" the girl asked. She wrote down their orders, then quickly headed off to get the drinks.

After she left, Lucius leaned forward again, "I think it's time you told me what's _really_ going on." He gestured to the papers, "All this information is interesting, but it still doesn't explain what _you_ are_ doing here._ You haven't spoken to me in six months, and now you're in the same city as me and for half of the damn time."

Nia sighed. "I moved here on instinct three months ago, just after the Joker was arrested. I own a vet clinic downtown, just outside the 'Narrows'. And yes, I knew you lived here." She hesitated with this next part, "I had a dream three days ago. You, Lucius, have heavy connections in this town."

Lucius's jaw locked as he realized what she was implicating. "What did you have a dream about, exactly?"

"I lived in Illinois for three years, but all of a sudden I couldn't stay there anymore. A murder happened just down the street from me, and I thought it was because of that." She took a deep breath. "I won't tell you what I dreamed exactly, just that I know who you're helping. And that I'm worried." She waved a hand at the old articles. "Hence the unnecessary paperwork," she told him.

The waitress came back with their drinks and set them at the table. When she did, Nia appeared to relax as she hid most of her tension. She nodded her thanks at the girl, and took a big gulp of her drink as soon as it hit the coaster. Her hands weren't even shaking as she held her glass.

"What do you need me to do?" Lucius asked when they were alone again.

"Talk to your man, give him a heads up. I'd like to stay out of it, but you know how good I am at that." She smirked, and then hesitated. "Just keep an eye on things. I don't want anything creeping up on me in the dark."


	2. Chapter 2 The Bayou Girl

"I don't get it," Stephens muttered. His partner nodded in agreement.

Commissioner Gordon sighed. "To be honest I don't either, but we don't have much choice." He fiddled with the pen on his desk. Truly, it didn't make much sense.

Bringing in a DA was the only choice they had when the previous one quit after an incident with Batman, but truly there was a place where one had to draw a line. Gordon had expected a DA from another high crime area, such as New York, Chicago, or even Los Angeles.

Instead they were getting a Louisiana bayou girl, whose successful cases could be counted on one hand. Rumor had it that it was her office that kept crime down, while the DA herself spent days at the spa.

He actually was supposed to meet the woman earlier today, but she had canceled, so instead he followed up on a lead about Batman, and once night had fallen he quit the field work until a call came in. So far, none had come in and Stephens had stopped by with his new partner. A conversation about the new DA, and other things, started and twenty minutes had passed before they heard a noise.

The conversation ended fairly quickly by a slight ruckus outside of Gordon's office. Since the Major Crimes Unit was still being rebuilt, the unit had been forced to move uptown to the Commissioner's building. The resulting piles of papers made very easy targets for the clumsy blond that had just strode in. The three men from Gordon's office weren't the only ones standing, mouths agape, as the woman and the desk sergeant tried to pick the papers back up _without_ knocking anything else over.

When papers were finally together, and forcefully taken from the woman by the desk sergeant, she straightened her black skirt and faced those standing behind her. Brushing the fly away that had gotten in her face during the fight with the papers, she finally had a chance to view their faces.

Spotting Gordon, the tall blond held out her hand, "Commissioner Gordon? I'm Victoria Johnson, your new DA."

Gordon's mouth snapped shut as he shook her hand_. _Good Lord, he thought, she won't last a week.

A few minutes later they were seated in his office. She'd given the customary greeting and was politely about to say what a pleasure it was to be there, when Gordon began laughing.

"There is no need to lie," He said, "We both know this city isn't a pleasure to be assigned to."

Johnson ducked her head and chuckled, "This city does have a reputation."

Gordon sighed and debated. He wasn't sure what the woman in front of him was here for, and wondered whether she was planning on treating this city the same way as she had in Louisiana.

What he didn't expect was for her to understand his look, and lean forward with a sigh of her own. "I know you don't think I can handle this city because of my reputation." She took a deep breath and continued, "And I feel absolutely no need to prove myself to you. I will tell you that I am here on a short-term basis, hopefully, and for a specific reason."

Gordon stared at the woman before him. Who does this woman think she is?The arrogance of the person before him was startling. Clearly the rumors must have been true.

While he was thinking, she was frowning. "Stop that," she snapped and smacked her own stack of papers on his desk, "because my specific reason is a bit of a biggie." Johnson paused. "I think," She added before standing. "Don't worry yet though, I'm just here to meet you, not bombard you with mad requests." She looked down and tugged her skirt slightly, almost nervously, "After all, I did rudely cancel earlier."

Before Gordon had a chance to respond, Johnson held out her hand. "Believe it or not, it was good meeting you." After a brief shake of the hand, she turned on her heel and strode out of the office.

Her exit may have been dramatic, but as she crossed to the elevator she stumbled and landed hard on her elbows. There was a flurry of movement as several officers helped her up, and the (very pink) DA left.

Gordon just watched from his office as the woman left.

Stephens leaned against the wall next to him, "Commissioner, you're looking a little shell shocked from the blond bombshell." He took a closer look at his boss. Seriously, the man must have been knocked into oblivion. "What'd she say?" Stephens asked.

Gordon turned to look at him, "I have absolutely no idea."

* * *

"Shit, shit, shit," Victoria Johnson muttered as she left as fast as her feet could take her. "I hate meeting new people, why did I leave my bayou?" She finally reached her car and wrenched open the door. "I know why, 'cause I'm an idiot." She nearly broke the key when she jammed it into the ignition, "And to top it all off, I make a fool of myself in front of the commissioner and his entire office." With a final curse, she started the car and took a deep breath. Its okay, she told herself, it could always be worse. Unfortunately the tiny voice of doubt was not so easily thwarted. She sighed and pulled out of the lot.

The drive to her apartment was surprisingly quiet and she found a parking space relatively easy. In fact it was right outside her building.

"Thank you, God," she uttered quietly. Even small blessings in this city deserve thanks. She opened her door slowly.

Suddenly, she slammed it shut and locked all her doors. Just it time too, for a man in black stopped directly outside her window. She hadn't seen him in the shadows, not until he moved.

When he tapped on her window, she realized the shiny thing she saw was indeed not a watch.

She rolled down the window just a little and called out, "What do you want?"

"Open the door."

"Huh uh."

"Open the door."

"Huh uh."

He growled and raised the gun higher, and Johnson frowned. Why? Really, Why? At least she hadn't turned off the ignition. Thank God for that, too. About to peel out of the lot, she almost didn't see the flash of even darker black behind the thug and the yelp as he was jerked from sight.

Johnson carefully opened her car door, and watched the short fight warily. When it was over Batman turned to her.

"As Gotham's DA you should be more careful."

Johnson raised an eyebrow and was about to protest, that she didn't do anything wrong, the thug just wanted to pick on her, when he turned and disappeared.

Her mouth snapped shut. "Well," was all she said before she called on Gotham's finest. After all, who else who collect the cursing man at her feet?

* * *

In the dark, a woman yelped and gasped. Rolling and thrashing as she kicked out at the sheets, she twisted while in the throes of her nightmare. Finally, she broke free and sat up, panting.

She curled up against her knees, gasping quietly before she gained her breath. She glanced at the clock.

The clock on the nightstand read 4:00.

Planting her bare feet firmly, she stood up quietly and left her bedroom. She stopped at the next room in the hall, and peaked inside. The figure curled up in bed was fast asleep. She relaxed a little, and continued on her path to cabinet in the living room. She reached inside, and pulled out a book.

Book in hand; she knelt on the floor in the middle of the room.

"Lord, please protect my family." She shook her head, "Lord if this is a gift of Prophecy, I don't want it." Her arms were shaking as she clutched the book to her chest, "It can't be real God, it can't be."

When she was finally lulled into sleep by her own rocking and praying, the book fell from her arms to the floor. The streetlight showed the title.

_Holy Bible. _


	3. Chapter 3 A Doe, a Deer

Nia shook her head as she studied the files in front of her. These x-rays just simply weren't making any sense, at least when coupled with the animal's symptoms. According to the owner, the bird wasn't eating and hadn't been using one of its wings.

"Not dragging it either," Nia muttered, repeating what the owner had told her. "Just not using it." She rolled her eyes and turned when Kailey spoke up behind her.

"So, you're not sleeping still," The brunette said as she walked into the back office to lean against the vet's desk.

Shaking her head, Nia gestured at the files before her. "Well, how can I when Jackie the macaw has been in three times this week and I still have no clue what's wrong with her."

Kailey patted her shoulder sympathetically. "It's okay," she said. "You'll figure it out. Besides," she shifted her stance and leaned closer to Nia. "I doubt that's why you aren't sleeping."

Nia rolled her eyes again. "I've just had trouble sleeping last night. I got too hot, then couldn't sleep 'cause I was all sweaty."

"Ooh," Kailey leaned back. "I hate it when that happens!"

"Tell me about it," she replied as she turned back to her work. Thank God she accepted that reason easy enough, Nia thought. Nightmares were just too personal most days.

Finally Kailey sighed and handed Nia another file. "Well when you're done with Annie, and Jackie the macaw, you have three new patients in room six, Dobermans in need of vaccinations."

"Oh, gre-" She paused.

"Dr. White, everything okay?"

Shaking her head, Nia stood quickly. "No, Kailey," She replied. "I need you to prep the OR," she added as she began to rush down the hallway.

"OR? Why would-"

"Just do it!"

Nia made it to the lobby just as to men in suits came through the door, struggling to hang on to the doe in their arms.

Adding her hands to the mix, she guided them to the back room.

"Lift her up," She near shouted, as the technicians hurried around her to begin anesthesia. Just by looking at her, Nia could see a fractured knee and severe abrasions. Her ribs were covered by a layer of blood, and her breathing was labored. Worst of all, the doe was clearly pregnant.

Feeling eyes on her, she looked up and saw the two men watching her and the doe. A flash of recognition went through her.

"Well, Mr. Wayne, it seems to be you've ruined another suit."

* * *

Bruce Wayne had long since stripped off his jacket, and was seated next to his butler, both waiting on word of the deer. The lobby at first appeared wide and open, but he realized it couldn't be any more than a 14x10 room. The side tables had "Pet Weekly", and "Cat Lover Monthly" magazines strewn across it, and the walls that weren't wide windows had pictures of various wildlife. Eagles with broken wings, raccoons with casts, and what could only be a baby squirrel. The chairs had cushions and were quite comfortable, a surprising splurge on comfort. The blood on his shirt was still damp, though the edges had dried somewhat, and sitting made it stick to his chest.

He turned to Alfred. "I thought you'd been hunting before?"

"Master Wayne, that was an out of season doe for which I had no reason to kill." He sighed. "Poor girl was just trying to cross the road."

"Always a very dangerous task," A quiet voice intruded from one of the multiple open doorways.

"Dr. White." Alfred and Wayne stood as she walked into the room.

Wayne took in the bloody bundle of rags, bloody clothes, and resigned expression on her face, "I take it things didn't go so well."

Smiling sadly she shook her head and approached them, "Mom died on the table. Deer don't take to well to waking up in foreign places. She had a heart attack."

"Mom?" Alfred asked, "You mean-"

"That this little guy has a survival ability stronger than mom?" Nia asked pulling back the top layer of cloth on the bundle in her arms revealing a tiny fawn, "I sure hope so."

"My God," Alfred whispered, and Nia nodded.

"Yeah, he's beautiful."

"For a prematurely born animal, sure he's a bit," Wayne shrugged, "fuzzy."

Her eyes flickered up to him, and her annoyance wasn't very strong, but still apparent.

Trying to appease her he leaned toward the sleeping newborn, and said, "Well he is certainly worth more than a suit, in any case." And amusement replaced the annoyance, combined with a softness around her eyes that he hadn't expected.

"What will you do with him now?"

Nia looked up at the older gentleman. He was honestly curious. "I'll call a few people, see who can take him, take care of him. He'll probably end up being a because he's premature so he's bound to have a few heath problems," She shifted the bundle, "Honestly the biggest problem will be finding someone. All the rehabilitators I know are in another state."

Wayne straightened. "I'll make some calls."

"You know the local people who take in wildlife?" She asked, incredulous. She could only imagine how he'd-

"No, but my company is the largest in the city. We probably have someone on payroll." He shrugged again.

Okay. So maybe there wasn't a cool story and warm heart beneath the tailored shirts.

Sighing, she covered the tiny animal up, "Well, if you could send someone my way that would be great. Meanwhile, I need to put him on heat." She turned away from the two men just as Kaylee came out to join them.

"Kaylee, I'm going to take care of this little guy, I need you to check out these gentlemen." Nia took a step then paused. Slyly, she looked at the brunette and added, "No dirt."

* * *

"Okay, so why didn't you want me to charge them?" Kaylee asked as she entered the kitchen where Nia was feeding the fawn. "Do you not realize who Bruce Wayne is? I swear the man must have more money than God."

"Don't say that," Her tone was light, but her words weren't, "God owns the world. Last I heard Bruce Wayne owned Gotham." And she winked at the younger woman, "Clearly not the world."

Kaylee sniggered, and then leaned against one of the many counters, "So what happened in there?"

"Excuse me?"

Sighing, the brunette turned to the sink and began filling a glass with water. She took a sip, then continued, "You knew that deer was coming in, just like you knew about the hawk last week," she said as she turned around, "and the dog before that."

"And you want to know how?" Amazingly she never altered in feeding the miniature animal in her arms. "That can only be answered by how strong your faith is."

Kaylee scoffed. "What so God gave you a gift?"

Nia shrugged, stood up and set the feeding bottle in the sink. "Wash this," she told Kaylee and left the little kitchen.

Startled Kaylee moved toward the sink, then paused. "Hey wait a second!" she called. "You didn't answer my question. Aw, come on!"

* * *

"No dirt. What do you think that meant, Alfred?" Wayne asked as they left the clinic, bloody jackets in hand.

"I gather it had something to do with the fact we weren't charged." Alfred frowned. "Odd really."

Wayne snorted. Odd it definitely was, considering he was the richest man in Gotham. More than once he'd been overcharged for something. Yet she'd instructed, 'No dirt,' whatever that meant.

"Well Alfred, I'm going to have to cancel my three o'clock so that I can change into something not out of a horror film." Wayne shrugged, then asked, "Who is it with, again?"

"Mr. Fox, sir, and he said he had something important to talk about," Alfred said. "Something to do with a mutual friend, perhaps?" The older man turned to the younger, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Besides, the ladies do seem to have this vampire fad currently. I'm sure they'd find you dashing if we added glitter." He almost missed the horrified look as Mr. Wayne got into the car. Almost.

* * *

The woman on the phone rolled her eyes. "No I don't know any rehabbers in town, I'm a human doctor remember?" She listened carefully before giggling. "Oh I wish, honey. I really would love to take him off your hands, but I'm pulling twenty hours a shift at the ER." She rolled her eyes, emerald in the lighting. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, stay out of my business, _Mom_."

Wena Verde was in a relatively small apartment, furnished only with bare necessities and was currently trying to solve the complex puzzle of opening her microwave dinner. Even after following the directions she still couldn't get the, now mangled, box open. Taking out a knife, she decided to stab it to death. As she lifted the knife she paused, "No I'm not. You're just imagining things." She set the knife down. "No I do not have a knife in my hand." She held up a finger as if the person on the phone could see her. "For the record, it's my dinner." Lifting up the no longer rectangular shaped item she whined, "It not cooperating."

Nia laughed and shifted the phone to rest more comfortably beneath her chin. "You're starting to sound like Zi," she said, knowing exactly what reaction she'd get.

When she heard a shocked gasp, Nia wasn't disappointed. "I am not!"

"You are," Nia argued, before changing the subject. "So why'd you decide to move to Gotham?"

Wena sighed. "To be honest, I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"I had a dream of moving one night," the brunette answered. "The next morning a real estate agent called when I was a work, saying she got my message about looking into properties in Gotham."

"So you decided to call her back?"

"No," Wena scoffed. "Woman kept calling me for three weeks straight. I finally gave in when a residency position opened up here, and they were in desperate need of help after the Gotham General incident."

Shaking her head, Nia sat up in her office chair. "I still can't believe you were here the whole time and I didn't know."

Smirking, Wena responded, "Hey, God moves in mysterious ways." Quietly she picked the knife back up.

With an equal smirk, though she didn't know it, Nia decided to asked, "Did you know Lucius is in town?"

Wena's arm jerked in shock and effectively sliced a hole through the cardboard of the box on her counter. Unfortunately, the edge of the knife also hit the kitchen wall and sliced through the wall paper. Ignoring it, Wena looked up it surprise, "No I didn't know that. Talk about mysterious. I wonder who else is in town?"

"You and me both, girl," Nia said emphatically, "Especially since you weren't the only one to have a dream. Although mine was a nightmare, really."

Firmly setting the knife down, Wena turned her back to the counter to lean against it. "What now?" was all she asked.

"Not sure."

Wena nodded, "Any ideas?"

Nia shrugged, "Something bad?" Picking up a pen on her desk, she hesitated with the next part, "I contacted Lucius about it."

Shaking her head to clear it, Wena asked, "Why? Was he in it?"

"Sorta, along with a friend of his."

"Oh?"

"He's the cool, dangerous kind of friend to have."

"Oh, crap." Wena put a hand to her head. "I really don't want to, but I have to ask. Is this friend rumored to 'live in the night'?"

"Among other things. Figured he might do with a heads up, considering the low crime rate last month and the sudden spike these last two weeks. Plus I heard there was a new DA. Didn't catch a name though."

"Oh crap," Wena said again. "I hate this," she added.

"Yeah, I know. Keep your eyes open."


	4. Chapter 4 Empty Shore

"Alright Mr. Fox, what is it you wanted to talk about?" Bruce Wayne asked as he strode into the older gentleman's office, wearing his second suit for the day. The man in question was seated at his desk looking over a file of papers. Some of the papers were newspaper clippings.

Looking up, Lucius Fox didn't really know where to begin. So instead of answering he stood with the file in hand and passed it Wayne.

"What is this?" He asked before opening it and beginning to look through the papers. Several had headlines of brutal killings, and unexplained deaths and murders. All the papers dated back to three years ago and older.

"I was contacted by an old friend," Lucius began. "They had compiled that paperwork together and gave it to me to give to 'my special friend.'"

Wayne looked up sharply, his face dark. He closed the file.

Lucius held up a hand. "I did not, in any way, shape, or form, tell them of my connections in this town. However, they do not know who is behind it all."

"Meaning?"

"_What_ I'm connected to is all they know, not _who_."

Gritting his teeth, Wayne clenched his fists. "Any reason why I should have these papers? They are several years old."

Lucius sighed. "I don't really know. They wouldn't say." Or couldn't, he thought to himself. "Seems they're afraid of something that may be coming."

"And theses papers have something to do with that something?"

Lord, I really hope not, Lucius thought. It was hard enough the first time.

But he didn't say that. Instead he said, "I don't know. I really don't."

Wayne nodded. "Then I'll pay her a visit tonight." He started to leave to room.

This time Lucius looked startled, "Her?"

Wayne smirked, and held up the file as he left, "Coffee stains, Mr. Fox. Coffee stains."

* * *

Nia sighed, and glanced at her watch. The time read well past eight, and beyond time to get home. Hopefully, Kaya wouldn't be too upset about having pizza for dinner tonight. Especially since she oh so loved the shepherd's pie her mother had made the day before. So much so, it took her three hours to finish one helping.

The girl was busy working in Nia's office, doing whatever vocabulary homework that had been given out that day. Sensing she was being watched, Kaya looked up to see her mom in the doorway, smiling.

"Second week of fifth grade, and you have homework already?" she asked, grinning. "Did you do something to the teacher?"

Kaya glared at her, and blew a raspberry in response.

Nia laughed, "Alright, well I'm gonna go lock up now. When I get back, I expect you to tell me what kind of pizza you want."

Kaya grinned. "Pizza? Really?"

"Really, really."

"Yes," The girl shouted in triumph and she threw a fist in the air.

* * *

It's always so eerie, the vet thought as she locked up and turned off all the unnecessary equipment. She was placing a hot water bottle in a basket for the infant deer to be carried in, when something didn't feel right. She barely hesitated in her preparations.

"Thank you for coming here, and not to my home."

Batman just stood there.

"I have a daughter to protect, and I'd rather not take the chance that you might be seen at my home. Even coming here is dangerous."

"Why?" He asked, voice thick and gravely. "What's coming?"

Nia rolled her eyes, and responded, "Starting with the easy questions aren't you?" She stopped what she was doing, and turned her head in his direction. "Since Lucius told you about me, I'm surprised he didn't tell you more." Taking a deep breath, she continued, "Because I don't know."

"The articles were from three years ago, why do they matter?" He asked. He still hadn't moved.

Rubbing her face with her hands, she groaned. "I don't know," she answered.

Growling, he took a step closer. "You don't know?" Clearly, he didn't believe that to be the truth.

Nia whirled around and snapped, "No I don't know. The killer featured in those articles is dead." She returned to her previous task and began preparing formula for the fawn with in a frenzy. "Look, I just got a tip from a very reliable source that that file would be very important." Heck, the tip came from the most reliable source there ever could be. The One on High. Yet Nia knew if she told him that, Batman would not take this warning seriously. "To be honest, the file might be helpful for the commissioner and DA to also have. If you give them a copy, tell them to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. Even this month's surprising lack of crime could be something."

"Why?"

"When does a person on the shore know a tidal wave is coming?"

She didn't get an answer, but continued on anyways, "It's not the earthquake that's the warning, although it is helpful. It's when all the water on the shore pulls back so far that fish get left gasping on the beaches and sometimes reefs are exposed."

She didn't even hear a swish as he left, but before she turned back around she knew he was gone.

* * *

Victoria Johnson heard the knock at her door, and answered it to take her Chinese take-out from the delivery boy. She paid him, shut the door and headed for the kitchen. The radio was playing, and she started to hum along with. Soon humming turned to singing.

"_This is who I am, oh this is who I am, so take me and make me something better than before, oh oh."_

Leaving the kitchen and intending to set her plate of food on the table, she froze when she saw the file set on her table. Movement to her left caught her eye, and she jumped when a dark figure stepped out of her dark hallway. She relaxed when she recognized him and set her plate next to the file.

"A gift?" she asked.

"A warning," he answered.

Flipping open the file she froze again, this time at the sight of a familiar headline. It was for the murder of a young woman in Louisiana. A killing that was still listed as a cold case in her district. Johnson had thought that killer would never be stopped, yet this was the last killing of this kind.

"Look familiar?" He asked. His voice gave her the creeps. It was too low, and grated.

"Yeah," she said, flipped through a couple more articles. "Several of these are cases that I had to deal with. Thought we caught the guy a couple times, but something always fell through. He's dead though." Died in a storm. She remembered finding his body, mangled from a fall. "Why'd you bring these to me?"

"Friend of a friend wants us to keep an eye out."

Johnson's head snapped up, "What friend? Why?" But he was already gone.

She cursed, and sat down hard in her chair. She began to look over the already familiar articles.

She didn't see anything she hadn't already seen before, so she didn't understand what she needed to look out for. The guy was dead. She remembered the night clear enough, when she, a few officers, and others found him on the roof of an apartment complex. He'd had a hostage and was backed up to the railing of the roof when the storm started. He wouldn't listen to the cops, or the others trying to talk him down.

He must have freaked, she thought. When he fell, he must have freaked and not realized the short railing was behind him.

Johnson shook herself, tried not to dwell on that place too much. It seemed the many unanswered questions surrounding the case were going to get dragged up yet again.

The phone rang and she jumped. Laughing dryly at herself, she picked it up without looking at the caller id.

"Hello?" she said. "Commissioner, this is she. Is there a problem?" She waited listening. "Well put him in holding, we will get to him in the morning." She listened, then nodded. "Yes, I understand. Well then, I'll be there shortly." Hanging up, she went into the hall grabbed her coat and shoes and left. Still sitting on the table was the file, and next to it the plate of forgotten food.

It only took ten minutes to reach the station, and that was including the time it took her to pull out of her lot. It took her only another minute to reach the holding area. The commissioner was waiting for her.

"Well Commissioner Gordon, I'm beginning to think you miss active duty. After all you seem unable to stay away from it," Johnson said with a smirk as came to stand next to him.

He merely grimaced at her before sipping from his coffee. "You'll soon learn that the crime rate is far from the pristine rates of other cities." He glanced at her. "Your bayou included, Miss Johnson."

"Oh I know that, that I do." She turned to the single view window and sighed. "So tell me who is this?"

"A petty, small time thief. He's of no significance really since the information he gave us panned out to be useless." Her head snapped around to look at him.

"And I'm here why?" She asked, her drawl dragging her word out.

Gordon sipped his coffee before answering, "An odd file came across my desk. I just wondered if you'd gotten a copy of it."

She went still and looked away. Oh boy, she thought. "Uh yeah I got it. Got any ideas about it?"

"I was going to ask you that, since I saw reference to your previous district."

Rolling her eyes, she snapped, "Yeah well those are cold cases we never officially solved, 'cause the bastard we know did it went and got himself killed, ok?"

He eyed her warily. "And there was nothing more to them? No… potential accomplice?"

"No. His pals took part in other killings and assorted crimes."

"So he was part of what? A mob? A gang?"

"They weren't exactly a gang, but they were definitely similar to one with one exception."

"Oh?" He asked.

"A person couldn't join their club. They were pretty much exclusive to specific people." She snorted, "We think one idiot tried to and got himself killed for it."

Frowning at her, he muttered, "And that's amusing?" He shook his head as she shook hers.

"You had to be there." She said by way of explanation.

He turned from the holding area and motioned for her to follow him. He led her up to the roof, a place they could speak quietly without others overhearing. It used to be good for speaking with the man 'wanted' by the police, but now that he really is wanted he hasn't been any where near Gordon. Not until today when the file hit his desk and he heard that familiar rough voice pass on the warning.

One they reached the roof, she didn't wait for him to speak. "So maybe we need to keep a look out for any one of his pals. I'll organize a couple files on them-"

"I don't think there is any need to. I assume you haven't looked through the entire thing." Gordon said, cutting her off.

She raised her eyebrows, "Didn't get the chance. There's info on them in the files? I had only seen newspaper clippings."

The man nodded, "There were only a few pages in the back, on a few gentlemen and one woman."

"Well then Commissioner, it seems we have a heading in this potentially brewing storm, besides keeping a blind eye out."


	5. Chapter 5 Blind Fear

Nia groaned as she pulled her self out of her silver Kia, feeling the weight of the leftover pizza she chowed down for breakfast.

"Uh-oh," Kaylee said as her boss walked in. "Looks like a 'left over bloat'." She commented. "Did Kaya enjoy the break from lard-substitute health food?"

Rolling her eyes, Nia sucked in her gut. "More than I would like." Nia admitted.

"I told you, that girl is starved on that crazy tofu diet you have her on." Kaylee said on a sigh, exaggerating the poor girl's plight.

"We are not on a tofu diet!" To prove her point, Nia snapped, "Shepherd's pie is far from tofu."

Ducking the swat aimed at her head, Kaylee just laughed as the offended woman turned on her heel and strode down the hallway. "Oh wait!" She shouted. "Mr. Wayne called! And it was him, not some secretary."

Nia paused in the doorway leading to the back room and turned back to her almost incompetent technician. "What did he say?"

"He left a name of a rehabber just outside the city limits. Apparently Wayne already contacted them, and asks for you to call if there is anything else he can do."

Nia was impressed. She knew he was one for charities, but those were big events. Helping out the local veterinarian seemed too simple of a task to even register on the billionaire's radar, let alone for him to make the call personally. "Was there anything else? Did he leave a number?"

"No," Kailey said. "But his secretary did. I wrote it down and left it on your desk."

"Ok, that works. Can you do me a favor and check the P.O. Box when you get the chance?"

Nodding, Kailey replied "Yeah no problem. Expecting anything special?"

Sighing, Nia shook her head. "Nah, just bills. What else?" Turning on her heal once again, the vet left the other woman so she could get ready to start her work day.

* * *

Three hours later, Nia was painfully aware that she needed a bigger staff than her and Kailey. She'd tentatively put an ad in the paper, but unfortunately got no hits off it. Not any good ones anyway. Got a couple druggies whose hands shook so bad they couldn't hold a needle, not that she would let them. Maybe she should put out a new ad, maybe even put a hiring sign in the window. Couldn't hurt, could it?

It wasn't until they caught a break between appointments and minor emergencies, that the two women were allowed a moment to breathe, never mind a moment for Kailey to give Nia the day's mail. It was late afternoon, and too short a period to have so many patients in Nia's opinion. This city had a higher amount of car related injuries than she was used to. Before she moved to Gotham, she would only get a couple of accidents each year, but now she's had four in the last three days. Of course, before she moved to Gotham she was living in a rural farm town where the most exciting emergencies were birthing complications.

Nia was taking a well deserved break when Kailey handed her a stack of envelopes, having already placed the magazines out in the waiting room.

"Thanks." She said to the tired girl and began to flip through the envelopes. Bills, bills, fancy envelope, bills, equipment advertising, and bills. Pausing, she rifled back through the mail. Fancy envelope? From Wayne Enterprises? Frowning, she opened it up being cautious to not tear the expensive parchment on the inside. The card was think and heavy and embossed with gold lettering. The fanciful scroll of the lettering almost made the words too difficult to read. Almost.

To say the least, Nia was surprised. She stared at the card in pure bafflement. It was an invitation to a charity event. One being held by Wayne, for one of the city groups. She wasn't sure which, hadn't been involved enough to know. She shook her head; she couldn't afford to go even if she wanted to. Nia was one of two employees and the only one with a DVM. So if there was an emergency, she was the only one professionally trained to handle it. And if she closed the clinic for the day? Bad idea. She gets emergencies on most days and Nia White did not want to be responsible for a dead family pet. It happens anyways, but not if she could help it.

So the charity was a no-go, but there's sure to be plenty of other, wealthier, people attending. Surely one busy vet won't make any difference.

"Dr. White," Kailey called from the hall, "We have another patient."

This patient was deemed a minor emergency, though. The poor puppy had gotten into a wasp nest and had a nasty sting on its nose, and possibly elsewhere. When she finished ruffling through the fur and spreading the toes of the pup, Nia had found only one other sting, a minor one this time. Very minor.

In no time, the puppy was back on the road to joy and its owner carried him out with a container of topical medication for the stings.

Turning to Kailey, Nia asked "You said the number Wayne gave is on my desk?"

* * *

"Yes, sir, the animal is a premature fawn. His mother was hit by a car and I was forced to do an emergency caesarian when the doe's heart failed." She listened and answered a few more questions. Several hours had passed since the morning's minor emergency and the tired veterinarian was finally getting around to calling the number left by Mr. Wayne.

Pulling out a pen and paper, Nia wrote down directions to the ranch. "Alright, well I'll be by tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow. I want to get this fawn to you as soon as possible." Laughing, Nia began nodding despite the fact the person she was speaking to could not see her. Realizing this, she said "Yes, yes that is how it is. Look, it's only a minor trouble, well worth getting this little guy to someone who can take care of him." She sighed. "I'm afraid my schedule doesn't allow me to be a surrogate mom, especially not here in the city. A shame really." She nodded again. "Yes, he's been on goat's milk and has had little trouble since the delivery."

Kailey appeared in the doorway, coat and purse in hand, and waved. Nia held her hand out to indicate the younger woman should wait.

"Yes." Nia said. "Ok. Sounds great. Alright, bye-bye."

"You need me for something?" Kailey asked as Nia placed the phone in its cradle.

Pulling out the invitation, Nia nodded. "That was the man Mr. Wayne found for us. I'll be taking to doe to him tomorrow, so I was wondering, would you mind watching Kaya for a couple of hours?"

Kailey grinned. "Me and the munchkin? Throw in take-out and you have yourself a deal."

Nia smiled, relieved. "Done."

After that, Kailey left Nia got up to check in on Kaya. The girl was curled up on a cot in the back room; set up for overnight stays with critical care animals.

"Hey, sweetie." She said softly as she sat down on the cot by her daughter's small body. "Wakey, wakey, girly-girl."

Turning over, Kaya rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Time to go?"

"Yeah, baby girl. Time to go."

In little time, the pair were out of the clinic and on the way to the small apartment that served as their home. The poor girl fell asleep on the way home too, and Nia carried her in to the girl's room. After Kaya was sufficiently tucked in, her mother went out into the main room pulled out her Bible, settled herself on the end of the sofa, and opened the book to read of Elijah.

* * *

Wena rushed from literally one end of the ER to the other, nurses around her heading for the same place as her. The current source of chaos in the typically busy section of the hospital was a gentleman who had just collapsed in the men's room, ending up sprawled in the doorway. They way he fell meant he would have to be lifted before he could be moved to a back board or stretcher.

Kneeling beside him, she could see that the man was still conscious, but incoherent.

"Sir," she said. "Sir, I need you to look at me." Not waiting for him to comply, she pulled out a pen light. After checking that his eyes were dilating correctly, she tried to communicate with him. She had little success. As she did so, she began palpating his abdominal region, checking for any potential internal bleeding. His abdominals were rock hard, but beyond that she felt no swelling or distention anywhere.

"Alright," she told the nursing staff around her. "We are going to have to move him out of the doorway before anything more can be done. Nurse Calridge I want you to handle his feet. I'll get his torso and Maria? Support his head."

There had been a day past that her directions would have caused confusion and protest on both nurses part. The man they lifted was a large black man, possibly an athlete due to the lack of body fat, and although Calridge was not as large as the man on the floor, he wasn't small in stature. Clearly, _he_ should have been the one to lift the gentleman's torso, not the smaller Hispanic woman. Yet, the trio acted as they would while performing a normal routine.

With care, the gentleman was lifted up and placed on a stretcher before being rushed out of the waiting room.

Close to 2 a.m. Dr. Verde was forced into a coffee break by Calridge. Grumbling, Wena grudgingly went outside to settle on one of the more private benches. She sipped her coffee slowly, savoring the bitter flavor and praying the caffeine will provide a boost for the next few hours.

The early September air was relaxing and in an effort to ease the tension in her shoulders, Wena reached up a hand to rub the back of her neck and shoulders. She sighed and closed her eyes. She heard a grunt and opened her eyes.

And screamed.

There was a man on the ground in front of her, having just been deposited there by Batman. Who was standing behind him. And looking intimidating as… Hell.

Wena spent barely a moment on Batman before getting up to kneel before the injured man.

"What happened?" She tersely asked.

"Ran in front of a car," Came the gruff response.

"'Ran', not 'pushed'? Damn, he's just a kid." When she looked up Batman was gone.

In reality, Batman was on a nearby roof, watching as she called for other nurses. He watched as the young man was hauled up on a stretcher and taken inside. His injuries didn't seem too severe, but as a precaution Batman brought the young man to the hospital. No more deaths need to be pinned on the caped crusader, especially not ones that were avoidable.

What had that kid been thinking, anyways? The boy had walked into the alley where a drug deal had previously been set to happen, until one very large flying rodent stepped in and was still in the midst of settling. The young man panicked, took off out of the alley and ran into the middle of the street. Was he just afraid? The blind panic that appeared to have gripped the young man was a kind generally only seen in criminals, but lately, lately that panic had been present in almost all the individuals he came across.

Fear had always been a part of his disguise, a part of Batman's symbols. Fear put into criminals but a something stronger than them, something willing to step out and stop them.

But now, ever since Dent's public funeral even the innocent ones have blindly ran.

To say the least, this has become highly annoying. At least two people have now run from him into worse situations.

One was a woman who came out to the roof he had currently been interrogating a criminal on. She had shrieked and in her fear forgotten that a stairwell was behind her. Fortunately, she only fell half a flight before she was up and running again, screaming for all she was worth.

The second had been this young man, this _kid_ who couldn't have been any older than a teenager.

It was a grim sound, the one his body had made when the taxi hit him and he bounced off. Traffic had never been too good on the main streets of the Narrows, and tonight had been no exception. The young man was lucky. Hopefully. If his minor external injuries gave any indication.

Later that night, when Bruce told Alfred about the boy, the butler gave a very delicate snort.

"What did you expect, Master Wayne?" He asked. "The Batman isn't exactly a gentle character."

Bruce shook his head. "I don't revel in their fear, Alfred."

"I'm not saying you do. You are not like Scarecrow, who helped incite terror in the city for his own greed, his own enjoyment, and perverse curiosity." The older man looked directly at his charge's face. "No, you, Batman, use that fear to convince criminals the life of crime isn't the one they want. I'm saying that you shouldn't expect for only criminals to be afraid of you. Or do you regret sacrificing your alter ego's _good_ name?" His sarcasm was light, but still present.

"I don't regret it, no. I just don't like the results of it. Either way, it's better than the alternative." Bruce stood up to leave, to head upstairs when Alfred spoke again.

"Don't forget, Master Wayne, that Harvey Dent sullied his name all on his own. Through his own choices." Alfred emphasized the last part, trying to will the younger man to accept his words. It didn't work.

"That doesn't change anything. It was still my fault."


	6. Chapter 6 First Death

"So, Jessica… are you going to go over there? Or are you going to stick here like a good little girl?" The words were drawn out, taunting and sexual in tone. The red head who spoke them matched the tone of her words in both style and personality, donned in a dark green top meant to compliment her hair and a matching black skirt. The addition of black kitten heels meant that in her own words, Amy was "dressed to kill".

Her friend Jessica, however, was not. Jessica was dressed stylishly, but not in an overtly sensual manner. No, her pink blouse was sedate and paired with well-fitting khaki slacks. Her outfit (paired with her pale blonde hair) was more 'warm summer' than 'hot passion'.

And still Jessica managed to outshine Amy. While the club wasn't empty it wasn't full either. As a matter of fact it was still too early for the real night life to be out, even if it was a Friday night. Which wouldn't normally be a problem for Amy, except the only reasonably attractive man in the building was sitting at the opposite end of the bar, staring at Jessica.

So Amy was egging Jessica to go over and 'say hello'. Or as she more delicately put it: "Invite him to your place to have hot, raging sex."

Jessica's response to all of this? "Amy, you're drunk."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't listen to me." The red head insisted.

Her friend laughed and shook her head. "The very fact you are drunk tells me I should second guess everything you tell me to do."

Amy scoffed. "Why have I ever told you to do something stupid?"

"The last time you were drunk." Jessica told her.

"I did not."

"You did too. You told me to post a naked picture on a dating website."

"Which was perfectly legitimate for getting you laid! Come off it, you're such a prude." Amy snapped at Jessica.

Annoyed, Jessica snapped back. "I am not. Just because you're a slut, doesn't mean you can call me a prude."

"Excuse me? I'm a slut?" Amy stood from her seat at the bar. "Well at least _I_ know how to have a good time."

"Good time? Good time?" Jessica near shouted. "Your idea of a good time is to get drop-dead drunk and knock heels with some dead beat guy whose number you always lose in the morning."

Growling, Amy picked up her drink and threw it in Jessica's face.

For Jessica, this was the last straw. At this point, she no longer cared that Amy was drunk with no ride home other than her. At this point, Jessica was ready to leave, whether or not her over the top friend left with her.

"I'm leaving." WasIs all she said before she turned on one heel and left.

The tipsy red head yelled at her, called her a coward and a few other names, but the blonde woman never turned around. And Amy never noticed that the man at the end of the bar left too.

* * *

Saturdays should not be spent in traffic. Ever. Not even for some poor little fawn. Ok, maybe said poor little fawn is worth it, but still bumper to bumper is more than a little frustrating… for anyone.

Nia sighed,sighed; this was a crappy way to spend her weekend. Hours playing tea party with Kaya while sitting in a chair much too small for her motherly bum was more entertaining than this traffic. There shouldn't even be any of this traffic either. What could be…?

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Nia knew, just knew, it wasn't anything good. Sure there had been thick traffic when she had left the city, but nothing like this. And Saturdays didn't exactly have a rush hour that competed with the weekday rush hour. So the only explanation would be… an accident. A bad one that took up one or more lanes of the highway. Considering the traffic, Nia would guess two lanes, multiple cars.

Over the next twenty minutes, as the vehicles slowly crept forward, thoughts of what was happening up ahead plagued her.

Was it a mother? A father? A family with children?

Was it some 'too young' guy or girl? Were they hurt?

Alive?

Dead?

She began to pray, quietly at first. She started more to comfort herself then to actually pray for the possible people in the car accident she hadn't yet seen, but then her prayers grew in strength and number. Just as she thought she was going to run out of things to pray for, she saw the cop cars and the flashing lights of the paramedics. Other vehicles were there also, troopers, vans, and three civilian vehicles in very poor shape.

One could see that two had hit the third vehicle head one, both hoods crumpled like accordions. The third vehicle had been hit on the side, the driver's side door and back passenger door both wrecked beyond imaginable repair. The paint and the interior of the vehicle was black, as if burned. Clearly a lot had happened here.

Nia noticed that only one ambulance remained, and they weren't rushed as they worked by the third vehicle. Cops were watching the perimeter of the area, talking on walkies, and watching as gentlemen in different uniforms worked. _They're collecting samples_, Nia realized before a second realization hit her. _Someone's dead._

A horn blared behind her, alerting her to the fact that she'd slowed down past the accident just a little too long. Pressing her foot to the accelerator, Nia sped up into clearer traffic and a finally faster way home.

* * *

From the edge of the car accident, an inexperienced eye might see only the damage to the vehicles, the damage to the people, the burned wreckage of the car hit, and the death of one person.

From where he was standing, Commissioner Gordon realized that most cops would only have seen what lay directly before him. He still didn't know how one young deputy knew, and knew to call him.

What lay in front of him was some sick bastard's way of covering up a murder. All too clearly, he could see the staged collision of both vehicles into the side of the dark green sedan. He'd bet money that some kind of accelerant was used inside the vehicle to aid in destroying of any evidence left behind by the killer. Gordon wondered what the autopsy report would reveal about the figure in the front seat, a woman by what he could see.

Watching as the crime scene techs took pictures, Gordon motioned the young deputy over. "Deputy Carlson, I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you contacting me. Though there are more proper channels you should go through," tThe deputy looked abashed at the slight reprimand, "I am glad you contacted _someone_."

"Sir, I know I should have contacted my Lieutenant first, and let him handle contacting you. I'm afraid we aren't on the best of terms right now," Now the deputy looked sheepish. "That's my fault too. I'm a bit of a hot head. It's my momma's Cajun blood." Sighing, he gave up trying to apologize. "I just knew someone needed to be contacted."

"Don't take this wrong, but how? Not many would have spotted this." Gordon wasn't sure why, but something told him to keep questioning the deputy, that he had information to share. It was an old instinct, one honed over many years as a detective, then as a lieutenant.

"Well sir, I've seen this before. In Louisiana." The deputy informed him.

The Commissioner nodded. "You said Cajun blood."

The deputy cleared his throat. "Uh, yes sir. I didn't live in the bayou for any, but my adult life though."

"Oh really?" Gordon asked.

"Yeah. It's actually where I attended the academy, worked as a deputy there for several years. I even knew our new DA when she was just an up and coming prosecutor." He paused. "Actually, she'd be a real good one to tell you about the case. The one I've seen before, that is." The deputy had turned toward the wreckage, and glanced briefly back at Gordon. "Commissioner, that case… It was bad one. Real bad. Guy killed four women. The first he tried to cover up, same way as this."

Gordon felt himself go still. The deputy's words struck a chord inside of him as he recalled several articles from the file that had appeared on his desk. This case that spooked the deputy? Was one of them. "I know the case." Gordon said.

Deputy Carlson nodded. "Not surprised. It made national news."

Gordon shook his head. "That's not how." Suddenly he swore, turned and left the scene.

Damn that Bat.

How did he know? "A friend of a friend" had been what he told Gordon, and now Gordon can only assume this was a hell of a friend. "Keep an eye out" his ass. That flying rodent… Was the best damn ally Gordon had ever had. He'd even saved Gotham. Twice.

Damn that Bat.

* * *

District Attorney Victoria Johnson growled at the idiot in front of her. Literally.

The moron sitting in front of her jumped back, eyes finally tearing away from the V of her blouse and settling on her face. He was a mob nephew and had the lack of brains to prove it.

"Look, Joey" She drew out his name as she leaned even further into his face. "I have DNA evidence to prove you were there. If you don't know, that means I have little pieces of you scientists have proven are only from you."

The panicked look on his lawyers face told her she was at last going to be taken seriously. Even the detectives behind her tensed up. Probably waiting for the "ditsy DA" to crack and attack a suspect.

"So guess what?" Not waiting for his response she continued. "I can and will charge you with the murder of Ms. Angeli and Mr. Giordano if you don't talk. I hear the needle isn't too bad." Her slight Cajun drawl drew out her next statement. "After all, they give you painkillers."

Stuttering, the thug barely got out "But-But you can't do that!"

"And why is that?" Johnson asked.

"'Cause I didn't do it! An' you know it!" Joey Romano shouted as it his voice alone could prove his innocence.

Lucky for him, it did.

"Oh I know that, Joey. That also doesn't mean I have to care." She laid out a crime scene pictures and evidence logs. "You are a thug, Joey Romano. Thugs like you don't get innocent rulings. Not looking the way you do."

"Now wait a minute-" The"The court appointed attorney started to stammer out. Poor Joey never had a chance with a lawyer like this one. Johnson almost felt bad for him.

"Shut up, Henricks. Your client has two options." She slammed her fist on the table. Both men jumped. "Death penalty, or 15-25 in prison. Alive." She lowered her voice. "Just give me Marino." Johnson said to Romano.

Dark eyes darted from her face to his attorney's. The man in glasses shrugged when the eyes pleaded with him for advice. Finally, Romano crumpled.

"Ok. It was his idea. He planned it. I didn't know what he'd planned until I'd gotten there…"

A half hour later, Victoria Johnson left the interrogation room and the man currently writing out his confession under the supervision of two pleased detectives. As she gently shut the door, a voice came from the left, startling her.

"Impressive."

Johnson turned. It was Commissioner Gordon. "Thank you." She said to him curtly, before turning to walk away.

"You were lucky on this one." She stopped. "Growls and looks of death don't work on more experienced criminals." She turned around. "Or on me," Gordon said as he caught the look on her face. And he was telling the truth. Her look of death didn't make him want to confess. He did, however, want to make sure he had his weapon close at hand.

He relaxed a little when she sighed and visibly shook off what he said.

"I assume you have a reason for being here? Other than commenting on my hands-on technique?" No reason to get mad, Johnson told herself. It's not like anyone here knows you very well, they all think you're some crazy blonde who will screw everything up. You just need to prove them wrong.

"Yeah," Gordon said. "You got that file handy?"

"Which file?"

He gave her a look.

"_That _file. Yes. Why?" She said.

"There's something you need to see."

**A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this one. Don't worry, everything will start coming together very soon. Many thanks to my lovely beta, The Window View. Now, I'm not one to beg for reviews, but it is true that they give encouragement and direction for the next chapter :) **


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